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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29238699">Queen of the Jungle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warks1999/pseuds/Warks1999'>Warks1999</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Derry Girls (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:00:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29238699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warks1999/pseuds/Warks1999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Faced with a night alone, James receives a very unexpected offer...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Possible James Maguire/Orla McCool</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Queen of the Jungle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is new and unrelated to my previous series :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Queen of the Jungle</strong>
</p><p><strong>30</strong><strong>th</strong> <strong>August 1995</strong></p><p>Given the disaster of the 'Friends Across the Barricades' weekend, James was surprised that the group were even allowed to meet. Expecting the last week before the new school year to be a slow, painful and somewhat torturous one through Michelle's taunts, Deirdre allowing them to go round to the Quinn house was a lifeline for the wee English fella. Still, he'd had a few days of it anyway from Michelle, who went out of her way to ensure he knew that, despite Clare doing the majority of the damage, it was all his fault. She was still reminding him on the way up to the Quinn's door.</p><p>"Yer a fuckin' prick ye know James". Michelle stated firmly alongside him.</p><p>Learning when and when not to say something had taken a lot of practice since his mother abandoned him, but the ability to just soak up the abuse and wait for the right moment was a key survival technique for James.</p><p>"Why don't ya just fuck off one day and never come back".</p><p>"Don't tempt me". He muttered quietly to himself.</p><p>Another art James was developing came in the form of the quiet comments that Michelle wouldn't hear. It was a skill that could be deployed effectively against his cousin, though he would not dare try it with an adult as no doubt a Deirdre or a Mary would catch him out. He'd already been on the end of a wooden spoon once from Deirdre, an experience he was keen not to revisit.</p><p>"Fuckin' dick".</p><p>Michelle ceased any further abuse as she knocked the door of the Quinn household, with Erin bounding down the stairs to answer the door. Opening the door, she had a wide smile on her face to greet the two of them.</p><p>"What's got you so happy?" Michelle questioned immediately.</p><p>Erin showed the two in, with James noticing Orla at the other end of the Quinn house, making herself a drink.</p><p>"We've been invited to Kerry Coyle's sixteenth… tonight!"</p><p>"Fuckin' yeah!" Michelle roared. "I am gonna be steamin' later!"</p><p>The two shared a high five as James smiled behind Michelle. Erin's expression changed when she saw his smile, switching from an upbeat happiness to an awkward shyness. He shot her an inquisitive look, prompting her to explain.</p><p>"When I say we… I mean just me and Michelle. Sorry James…".</p><p>Erin began to apologise, but in reality, he always expected to be left out. Though they might have been a group, there were still a lot of people who didn't feel he belonged in Derry. Himself at times being one. Whilst it was a kind gesture to apologise to him, she didn't need to do so.</p><p>"It's fine".</p><p>"Too fuckin' right!" Michelle exuberantly pointed out. "Yer such a dick, ye'd ruin it".</p><p>Rolling his eyes at the latest barb, he appreciated Erin's sympathetic curving of the lips behind Michelle, though he was once again confused. He could understand why he wouldn't be invited, but why weren't Orla or Clare. <em>Coming to think of it, where was Clare?</em></p><p>Before James could ask, Orla strode across from the kitchen, glass in hand, beaming brightly as ever. There weren't too many beautiful sights for him in the city, but seeing Orla McCool merrily smiling away was one of the rare ones.</p><p>"Ach Michelle, are ye goin' to the wee party?"</p><p>"Aye Orla. Shame ye didn't get invited like". She replied.</p><p>"I did". Orla retorted gently. "But I've got plans so I have. I'm goin' campin' out in the woods tonight".</p><p>"On yer own?" Michelle's eyebrow raised, glancing to Erin who was rolling her eyes after hearing of Orla's trip for the thousandth time.</p><p>"Mammy said I can as long as I'm back by first thing in the mornin'".</p><p>"Whatever". Michelle huffed. "Come on Erin, we need to get thinkin' about what we're wearin'".</p><p>Michelle grabbed Erin by the arm, and they headed off up to her room, leaving Orla and James stood in the hallway, with hands in pockets. He was contemplating another night alone. Deirdre and Martin were both working nights, so with Michelle out, he would have to sit in front of the television as normal. That would eventually transition to going to bed, sitting up and reading in the same monotonous routine, grappling with the thoughts of how lonely he truly was, until sleep finally took over.</p><p>"Clare was invited too ye know". Orla told him.</p><p>"Oh right…". James suddenly remembered the diminutive blonde's absence. "… where is she?"</p><p>"Her mammy said she can't go out this week after she called that fella those nasty words".</p><p>It wasn't Clare Devlin's finest hour when she shouted 'Jaffa Bastard' whilst dangling off the side of a cliff. The ensuing melee beneath her was no better either, Orla pulling a knife on the protestant lads being of particular note.</p><p>"Why don't ye come with me James?"</p><p>The invitation caught him off guard, and for a moment he did not respond. Not used to having kindness extended to him, apart from with Katya until Erin ruined it, he didn't really know what to say. There was also the immediate thought about what Orla's Granda Joe would have to say about the two of them spending a night in the woods. If he was nervous about facing the wooden spoon again, having to face an enraged Joe absolutely petrified him.</p><p>"Erm…".</p><p>"Don't worry… I'll have me knives ye know".</p><p>He could only bring himself to chuckle at her comment. It was long ago when he first had the tour of her extensive collection, the knives being items of pride to her. One of them being the culprit from the prior weekend's scuffle. Despite that though, it seemed quite a dangerous proposition for him to spend a night out in the woods. He had little experience of camping in his years.</p><p>But strangely enough… he wanted to do it. Something about a night out in the woods with Orla was appealing. A night away from the mundane reality of his existence. A night to be as free as her, without a care in the world.</p><p>"Alright then". He nodded.</p><p>"Cracker!" She shouted, leaping up to hug him. "I'll meet ye at yer house at seven".</p><p>Orla hadn't only invited him on a camping trip, she was now fully hugging him. James found his hands settling comfortably to rest around her. He enjoyed the feeling of having her there. Not like… <em>that… </em>obviously<em>…</em></p><hr/><p>Decisions.</p><p>James hadn't always got decisions right in recent times.</p><p>
  <em>Pissing in a bin… necessary but still not a great one…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Washing the shop windows with mayonnaise… pretty shit…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Trying to lose his virginity to Katya… not that bad actually… well until Erin decided it was bad… for whatever reason…</em>
</p><p>The decision to go camping with Orla was not one of those. He was really enjoying himself out in the woods that evening. The two of them found a spot and pitched the tent, not far from a small stream where they'd both been relaxing in the summer evening sun. There was no one about in that part of the woods, nobody to bother the two of them as they chatted away. Conversations ranged from school to the rest of their friends, the two making predictions for what might occur at the party in their absence. Poor Erin having to guard Michelle alone could easily lead to a drunken disaster and at least one poor fella being harassed all evening. He found it easy to talk to Orla about his true opinions on everything when they were alone. There was always the fear that she would blurt something out when they were with the others, embarrassing him without intending to. His mind told him that it would not be a problem that night. Something about Orla seemed… different.</p><p>Still, his sleeping situation gave him a fright. James didn't own a tent; with Orla having explained to him that she would provide the sleeping accommodation, he didn't go out and buy one after leaving the Quinn house earlier in the day. The tent Orla turned up to the Mallon house with didn't look very big at first sight, proving to be even smaller when they'd erected it upon finding their spot for the evening. Being a gentleman, as well as being a bag of nerves, he'd not mentioned it since she'd turned up at the house, but he did need to know.</p><p>"Orla?"</p><p>"Yeah…". She replied, a lollipop in her mouth.</p><p>"Where… erm… where am I sleeping?"</p><p>"Ach yer in the tent with me so ye are".</p><p>The cautionary alarm bells inside the Englishman started to ring. If anyone, whether it be their friends, family or strangers, caught them in the tent together, then he would be spending the rest of his life as a eunuch with the likely reaction Joe would have to finding out. Michelle would almost certainly endorse the castration too.</p><p>"Are you… sure?"</p><p>He gulped rather loudly as he finished, prompting her to frown at him.</p><p>"Why wouldn't ye be? Can't have ye sleepin' on the sticks".</p><p>"Right…". James swallowed nervously again. "Yes… of-of course".</p><p>The worry of having to share the tent with her quietly nagged away at him all evening, though thankfully he could put it to the back of his head as they continued on with their laughing and joking. Orla's proficiency in getting a fire started was remarkable to him, watching on as she did so effortlessly, knowing that he would have floundered and probably given up on his own. James still retained some use though, in the role of rationing out the sweets so that she didn't eat them all and start boking. That would certainly ruin their pleasant trip…</p><p>"Do you do this often?" He posed the question to her as they sat around the fire in the dark.</p><p>"Not really…". She admitted. "… but Mammy says it's good for me and who I am. I'm not sure what she means…".</p><p>James fully understood Sarah's sentiment. Orla could almost be classed as the Queen of the Jungle out in the woods, living in them as if she owned the land. He noticed the bow and arrows making the journey too, which allowed him to envisage her as a warrior of yesteryear, surviving on a harsh frontier with just their wits to accompany them. She hadn't demonstrated her ability with the bow yet, not that it was necessarily a bad thing as he knew sod's law dictated that someone would probably be walking by and end up with an arrow in them if she did. <em>Then again, that would be amusing…</em></p><p>"Thank ye for comin' with me James". She flashed him an appreciative smile after her sincere comment.</p><p>"Thank you for inviting me…". He chuckled. "… it's saved me from a boring night at home".</p><p>She laughed sweetly in return, shuffling a bit closer to him.</p><p>"I wouldn't want to be at yer house in the mornin' though…".</p><p>"Why?" He replied.</p><p>"Ye know… with Michelle. I bet she'll be right steamin' aye".</p><p>"Yeah…".</p><p>A hungover Michelle was quite the sight to behold, even if the foul mood it put her in resulted in further castigation for him. She had the turning circle of an overburdened oil tanker the mornings after a hard night on the lash, constantly bashing into things whilst trying to maintain appearances with the generally unimpressed Deirdre.</p><p>"Yer my second favourite fella ye know James…".</p><p>
  <em>Second favourite!?</em>
</p><p>James wasn't sure what shocked him more; being seen in terms of favouritism or finding himself angered at not being her favourite. The former delighted him; the latter scared him out of his skin.</p><p>"Ye would be my favourite but that's my Granda so it is".</p><p>An internal sigh of relief flowed through his veins. He could be contented in running second to Joe in the 'Orla's favourite fella' stakes, knowing how much of a fatherly influence he had on her in the absence of a father at home herself. But in the next breath he had to ask himself… <em>why was he so offended by potentially being behind another lad?</em></p><p>That question remained in his mind, James doing everything he could to think of something else to stop him replaying it in his head, quickly telling her a story from his time back in England. At least he thought he was…</p><p>The story he chose happened to be one from the days just before he was abandoned in Derry, when he'd been to a party with some of his mates. There was a girl there that night, Lizzie Lucas, who he'd had a crush on for years. They'd been to school together since they were in nursery and he pined painfully for her as more popular lads went out with her, usually for a few weeks until it all ended in tears. However, that night at the party she was single, and with a bit of Dutch courage, James started up a conversation. It didn't go all the way that night, she wasn't quite ready for that, but he'd enjoyed a very heated snog with her in the back garden of the house they were at. Sadly, events conspired against him to make anything more of it, and with Lizzie's beauty, she was bound to have found other suitors since.</p><p>Orla yawned as he finished the story, putting her hand over her mouth in attempt to stifle the worst of it.</p><p>"Sorry was I boring you?" He snorted his amusement.</p><p>"No No!" She protested in return. "I'm just a wee bit tired, so I am. I still can't believe that you'd kissed a girl before Katya… I guess this Lizzie doesn't glow in the dark?"</p><p>"Of course not…". He rolled his eyes in fake annoyance, proceeding to laugh heartily at the reminder of her belief of the ability within the children of Chernobyl.</p><p>She was yawning for the second time as he laughed, speaking to him again after he'd finished.</p><p>"I want to go to sleep now I think".</p><p>James became nervous once more as he remembered the sleeping arrangements for the night. To hide his sudden attack of blushing, he left Orla to put the fire out and went into the tent to quickly change out of her view. It was a warm night even out there in the woods, but he wasn't removing much given the circumstances of how close he would be to her. There was a torch at least, enabling him to see exactly what he was doing. Picking his spot as close to the fabric of the tent he could, he tried to give her as much space as possible. He'd expected there to be a sleeping bag each for them, but instead they were laying on a raft of old blankets, underneath a duvet. He must have only taken up about twenty per cent of the space available he was that nervous about sharing the tight space with her.</p><p>As he was getting comfortable, James heard her shuffling around outside the tent. Flickering the torch towards the entrance, he followed the path of the bow as it was then thrown towards the other side. It was a good job he hadn't picked that side, otherwise he'd have ended up getting smacked on the head with it…</p><p>Orla clambered in to join him, with James shining the torch on her so that she could find her way around inside. She'd lost the military style jacket she was wearing whilst they were outside, leaving her in just a t-shirt and shorts.</p><p>"Ach yer ready already". She commented, noticing him safely tucked up under the covers.</p><p>"Ye-Yes. I… I thought I'd get cosy".</p><p>
  <em>Idiot… don't say cosy…</em>
</p><p>The chastisement of himself turned out to be unnecessary. The next thirty seconds or so went by in a flash for James, without him uttering a word. Keeping the torch on Orla, she suddenly removed the t-shirt that she'd been wearing. His eyes would have most likely widened regardless, but they were practically out of the tent when, through the torchlight, he came to realise she wasn't wearing a bra.</p><p>The alarm bells from earlier in the evening became sickening air raid sirens from within.</p><p>
  <em>Oh my…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Good God…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You're just a young Englishman James, you aren't programmed to deal with this…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If anyone sticks their head in now, you know nothing, you are just a poor confused Englishman in a foreign land… You don't understand the local customs…</em>
</p><p>He'd immediately turned his eyes away from her, in unison with the torch, to hide the mortified look plastered across his face. He tried to say something, but words failed him. And they failed him even further when he suddenly registered Orla snuggling up to him on his left side as if it was normal. As if her being naked from the waist up, next to him under the covers… <em>was normal.</em></p><p>"Night James".</p><p>"N-Ni… Night…. Orla".</p><p>Within a few seconds, she was fast asleep with her head on his chest, leaving James utterly speechless in the darkness of the tent.</p><p>He really… <em>really!... </em>didn't know what was happening.</p><p>But he would have been a liar if he said he wasn't enjoying it.</p>
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